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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22448638">The Dilemma</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilstheater/pseuds/evilstheater'>evilstheater</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>No Fandom, Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emetophobia, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, vent - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 14:16:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>699</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22448638</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilstheater/pseuds/evilstheater</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A boy sits in a cage. A boy comes into the room.<br/>(tw in tags, adult content)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Dilemma</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There is a boy trapped in a cage.</p><p>The cage is small--suffocating, even--and he has no means to escape. The bottom of the cage is covered in blood and vomit, his wrists shackled to each other, and legs non-functioning. The room surrounding him is blinding white, and he finds it hard to sleep. He is offered food and water, but is losing weight from a lack of appetite. He is sick. He no longer cries or shows emotion, as he has lost the need to show them. Drugs and alcohol lay in the cage if he wants them, but not a bottle of beer has been opened nor a line of cocaine snorted. He has no means of killing himself. A prisoner, forever.</p><p>Someone else enters the room.</p><p>He looks just like the boy trapped in the cage, but is free. He is given a gun with only one bullet left. He is allowed one shot, either to himself or to the boy stuck in the cage. Killing the boy in the cage means he finally gets relief, but what does that mean to the boy who is free? What does killing someone else grant to him? He holds the gun to his sides, the gun pointed down. He stares at the boy. The boy in the cage is filthy. Covered in his own vomit. Blood drools from his mouth, and cum from his holes. Is he a person, if he is just a mangled mess of what once was? Is he a toy? An animal?</p><p>What is a human, if what remains is only a shell?</p><p>The boy in the cage stares at the outsider. The pistol in his hand gleams in the light, a reminder that his life could be mercifully ended at any moment. He no longer wishes to be released to see his friends, his family, or anyone that had value to him. He wishes for a peaceful sleep, where no one will wake him, and where he will never wake.</p><p>For the first time in years, the boy in the cage cracks.</p><p>He sobs. He grips onto his filthy knees and he sobs. He begs for the stranger to shoot his brains out, so for once he gets relief. Drugs are only temporary. Alcohol only makes you feel good for so long. Being a [REDACTED] only feels good when you lie to yourself. He could of sold himself on [REDACTED], but he eventually cracks. He eventually holds his head and screams, while he tries to claw his eyes out.</p><p>Which is what he does again.</p><p>His face is scratched up, tear-stained, bloodied. Despite how he pulls at his hair, no strands fall out. No matter how he tries to mutilate his eyes, he still can see. No matter how much he wants sweet death’s embrace, he is still alive. He is a prisoner.</p><p>He is a toy to be passed around.</p><p>He is a husk of what once was.</p><p>Where was his happy emotions? His memories? Gone, from years of dissociation and memory loss. He sits in his filthy prison and weeps, PTSD flashbacks breezing through his eyes like a presentation.</p><p>The stranger outside points his gun at the boy.</p><p>The boy begs him to shoot.</p><p>The boy in the cage says they’d both be happy if he was dead.</p><p>Both?</p><p>No, the boy stuck outside is the boy in the cage. His true self, bloodied and bruised, stuck in a confined space where he may never leave. A prisoner in his own mind, not allowed to leave or be unleashed or else they’d be both stuck in an asylum. A broken child, who wants to go to sleep, and never wake up. He wants to sleep forever, where finally the screams in his mind will fade away, like a dream. But he is kept alive.</p><p>The boy outside is a cold husk of what was once a joyful person, who happened to be stuck in a horrible situation. He isn’t who he thinks he is. But it is too late to go back now. He knows who to shoot.</p><p>He pulls the trigger.</p><p>The gun is pointed up.</p><p>It goes black.</p>
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